A Piece of Art
by Lawless5
Summary: A psychopathic killer tries to crawl his way into McGee's head causing him to think like him and possibly...act like him, leaving a horror in McGee's life to which he never thought he'd face. Rated M for mature content which includes gruesome violence and horror (pretty much anything in a horror or thriller movie :P) Warning: it's pretty dark, so if you don't like then don't read.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! this is my first Horror fic, so let's see how this goes! :) I've been wanting to do one for NCIS for quite some time but I haven't gotten around to doing it yet...until now :P **

**WARNING: it's pretty dark it will get darker and gruesomer as more chapters come by (Hence why the rating is M). So if you like this kind of stuff, please enjoy! and let me know what you think! :)**

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Scattered clicking sounds of the continuous flash built into the delicate camera held by cold hands burst in the scene. Blood, nowadays it seems to be everywhere. Every case, even outside one, Blood, just blood caressing the mind of the young field agent as he gulped in another case that blew his mind. He knew that he has seen and been through much worse but the sight of what was displayed before him, which to his displeasure seemed more like an art then a kill. He shook his head to that thought. An art? Killing is not an art, how could one think that? Crazy people, he thought. People whose minds were so twisted that that their view on pleasure was nothing but ripping the lives of innocents. He knelt down beside the first victim. Their eyes were different, different as in one was blue and the other brown. He glanced over to the other victim who lay perfectly still on the couch as though he had just fallen asleep. He watched as his older co-worker lifted the eyelids of the victim. One brown and one blue. He glanced closer at the skin noticing that the texture and colour were off around the elbows. He glanced over at the second victim. It was the same. He swallowed hard as the words to describe what he had found refused to be released.

"Um…I uh…found something," he said with what his co-worker noticed to be quite low, making it hard to hear. The co-worker joined the kneeling agent and glanced where his partner was glancing. The young agent did not have to say anything for all he did was point to the difference in skin types upon the victims arm.

"Well, Timothy you have definitely found something…rather unusual in fact," mentioned the old corner that joined them after noticing their strange attention towards the victim's arm. "Move aside gentlemen as I take a quick look."

The two co-workers did as they were asked, the younger of the two still not able to keep his eyes off of the victim.

"You okay, McGee?" the older one asked.

McGee nodded and moved his eyes to look at a different scene.

"Dinozzo! Any info on who they are?" their boss exclaimed as he entered the living room to which they were present in.

"Uh, yeah, Victim number one is a civilian named Markus Shoules and victim number two is Petty Officer Jason Grey. Both are neighbours and good friends. Uh, both have girlfriends and that's about it, boss."

Their Boss nodded as made his way to the corner.

"Anything Duck?"

"Well, it seems that our killer has made what is seems to be 'mixed dolls', he somehow very professionally cut each of them up and then mixed their parts together and made a 'doll'. Notice the make-up on their faces and the clothes they are wearing. This seems to be the killers own human sized raggedy dolls, except you can hardly see the scars of where he must have stitched them up! I have not checked their time of death but when I do I expect them to have been deceased for a very long period of time for the stitches to mend into such small scars. But, if that were true he must have preserved them with something because they look to be freshly killed!" The doctor exclaimed with a small hint of anger. McGee felt a pain in his stomach to which traveled up his esophagus. He gagged and ran towards the nearest garbage bin to which nothing quite enjoyable flowed its way out of his mouth. Tony's body shook with disgust to the scene of his partner throwing up. His boss nodded at him to go and take care of his co-worker.

"Come on buddy," Tony said as he helped McGee up from his crouched position. McGee moaned as his unbalance left him to fall upon his partner almost falling to the floor as he stumbled his way to get up straight. "There we go, okay let's go in the car and you can lie down."

Tony led his co-worker to the car helping him gently inside it. He glanced to his side and saw his other co-worker Ziva David interviewing the girlfriends of the victims. It made him laugh a little because he knew how much she hated interviewing the lovers or relatives of the victims, but mostly the lovers.

-x-

"The maker is only as great as his work, they say. They say that once the maker is satisfied with his masterpiece, his only wish is to share it with the world. That is not my wish. I prefer to only show my masterpieces to those who are worthy of seeing it; otherwise, it is only mine to observe and keep," A thin man explained as he seemed to be sewing two thick materials together, so perfectly one would think that the stitches were machine made. A young man sat behind the man who was sewing. The light was so dim one could not see him face, only hear his staggered breaths flowing with uniform pattern as the bitter cold air seemed to want to snap away at his tongue.

"Why?" the man sitting in the dark asked with a slight crack in his voice making it rather obvious that he was very uncomfortable. The sewing man ignored his question and continued his work making sure every detail was perfect. Once the man finished he turned his head to face the other man. He stood up and glanced at the man's features, to which made him smile. He placed his hand upon the man in the chair's shoulder stroking it gently. The texture pleased him to which added a flourish of stings in the sitting man's stomach. The sewing man took out his knife from his pocket.

McGee's heart burst with panic as he woke up from his bed. His breathing grew heavy very heavy in fact it was hard to breathe at all. He clicked on his light and noticed that the TV was on in his bedroom. Ironically it was 'The silence of the Lambs' displaying the scene of the killer's room with a fat suit made out of human skin standing on a holder. McGee shut the TV off. Though the qualities of the killer from the movie and the one who displayed that 'piece of art' did have similarities but McGee shook his head. No one can be that crazy, right? It only happens in the movies! In all of Tony's stupid movies! This reassurance did make McGee a tad bit better but his insides were aching at the thought of a killer like this one or even like Hannibal Lector who is also present in the film as one of the mains could actually exist. No they don't. It's just Hollywood make things more dramatic. McGee has dealt with many serial killers and they all turn out to be the same.

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**BTW I'm a Hannibal fan, so there may be a few references :P **


	2. Chapter 2

" McGee! come on, Gibbs called us down to autopsy," said an out of breath Tony. McGee turned his gaze from his computer screen to his co-worker standing in front of him. McGee hesitated. Autopsy. He never liked entering that room. That room was filled with autopsies that included some his fellow co-workers, it was only on occasion that he would accompany Gibbs to receive some news from Ducky.

"Hello? Earth to McGee! Autopsy now," exclaimed Tony as he started to bang his hand on McGee's desk. McGee jumped in his chair to his co-workers actions and immediately grabbed Tony's hand to stop him.

"Can you please not bang on the desk, you'll break it," said McGee as he continued to not move from his chair. Tony chuckled.

"Going to break, my ass! Come on! Even Ziva's down there and the Boss says he wants all of us to hear what Ducky the Autopsy master has to say."

"The autopsy master? Really? you could have thought of a better nickname?" McGee commented.

"Hey, I thought that was pretty creative, but since your so fussy I could call him 'the autopsy wizard' or the actual room could be called 'gollum's cave' and Ducky is Gollum and the body is his 'precious' huh? Huh?" Tony said while using the Gollum's voice to say 'precious' looking rather amused with himself but McGee just sat there unamused.

"Oh come on! You know Gollum from Lord of the Rings directed by the one and only Peter Jackson! You're a nerd you should know this movie!" Tony protested.

McGee ignored his protest and began to walk towards the elevator. Tony stumbled behind him almost barely making it to the elevator before it closed.

"Listen," Tony began to say with a more serious tone. "I know that you didn't feel comfortable seeing the bodies at the scene and this well… won't be as appealing either but you got to face your fears my man!" McGee listened but did not answer; he was never one to confront his fears.

-x-

"Alright, I believe I can begin," Ducky said as the team gathered around the two corpses. "This killer, to which I have started a psychological profile on, is what one would say 'mad', but he is far too creative and talented in his work to be the so-called 'mad'. A psychopath perhaps? It seems very likely to be so. Here he began to…" Ducky's words began to fade within McGee's ears as he watched the bodies lay there motionless. His vision began to fade from what he saw initially as the autopsy room to what became a room rather familiar. A middle aged man was sitting in the corner in front of a table covered in pieces of skin. McGee looked to his right and saw two skinned bodies lying upon the floor. The man began to hum a tune to which turned into singing.

_Well someone's got to clean 'em up, my friends  
Bodies on the highway  
Law and order upside down  
Someone's got to collect their odds and ends  
As a service to the town!_

He walked towards the man who seemed to see McGee as only a ghost, one invisible to the eye. The man was sewing, but not just ordinary sewing. McGee noticed that the man was carefully making sure that each stitch was perfect. This seemed impossible to McGee, no one could make stitches that perfect by hand especially stitches unnoticeable once sown. Once the man was done, he lifted up his project and smiled. Each piece of skin that was mixed together was sown to form what seemed to be a body suit. The man laughed and walked towards one of the victims and 'dressed him up' , then sewing the rest together.

_Well, someone's got to clean them up, my friends  
Before the little harvest  
Disappears into the mud  
Someone's got to collect their odds and ends  
When the gutters run with blood_.

The man finished his first work. McGee couldn't do anything but watch in silence. Not an inch of him moved he just watched and watched as the killer performed his piece of art. Once the two were finished, the man one by one lifted them up and carried them up the stairs. McGee followed. The man placed each body in the positions that McGee remembered finding them in. The man took out a see through bottle filled up with what looked like to be blood. "And now for the finishing touch" the man muttered as he sprinkled the blood upon the victims and the floor. The man then continued downstairs to which McGee followed. The man cleaned up his work place and McGee noticed the man holding a bottle to what seemed to be some type of oil. The man chuckled and placed it in his bag. He began to clean the area for prints and what not.

It's a world where the dog eats the dog  
Where they kill for bones in the street  
And God in His Heaven  
He don't interfere  
'Cause he's dead as the stiffs at my feet  
I raise my eyes to see the heavens  
And only the moon looks down  
The harvest moon shines down!

The man stopped right in front of McGee which made his heart pump to a rapid pace. The man looked up at him as if the invisible ghost protecting him had vanished. The man smiled. McGee did not move.

"One day, you will perform your own piece of art," the man said.

"McGee?" Gibbs' voice was heard from the distance making the scene of the house vanish to become the autopsy room once more. McGee hesitated before realizing where he was. His breathing became deeper to which caught the eye of his boss during Ducky's explanation.

"You okay?" Gibbs' voice turned to concern as he placed his hand upon McGee's shoulder. McGee gulped and looked up at him. To McGee's own surprise he responded saying that he was fine. "I uh…I just remembered that I left my uh…my laptop on at home and the battery was dying and I don't think I saved my report…" McGee lied trying to find an excuse for his scared look and heavy breathing.

"You sure?" Gibbs asked while looking into McGee's eyes. McGee nodded.

"It's McGee boss, computers are his babies! It's a normal thing for him to freak out about them," Tony commented to which McGee knew that it was a form of teasing.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: hey guys! I hope you are liking the story. I would love some feedback! :) well, here is the next chapter! enjoy! :D**

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"So what is it?" Gibbs asked impatiently as the gothic forensic scientist Abby held up a test tube filled with a clear-like oil.

"It's bio-oil. A type of oil typically used to treat scarring and stretch marks, a beauty product that most women use. The killer used this to 'treat' the stitches so the scarring would mend into the perfection it displayed once you found it," She explained even using her fingers to demonstrate air quotes as she spoke the word 'treat'. "Since the bodies were found like several days after the killing happened the bio-oil was able to help mend the scarring in that period of time. You would expect the skin the soak up all the oil, but since the skin was dead and starting to dry up not all the moisture was absorbed as quickly as it would have on living skin."

"ok, thanks Abs."

-x-

McGee placed a thin white piece of paper in his delicate type-writer. His fingers just floated over top the keys waiting for a signal to begin to press but the signal was blank. All McGee could think of was the lingering memory of his first kill. The guilt, the shame, the pain. They were endless amounts of needles picking at his skin. He did, however, remember his solution to some of that pain. A way to keep it hidden. Writing. Writing was his passion. He in fact is a novelist, but his author name goes by Thom. E. Gemcity. His specialty was crime; since he worked in that field it would make sense to why he would pick such a genre. He wondered if writing about this killer for whom he heard the team nickname 'the doll-maker' would help him the way it did for every challenging occasion.

_Just write McGee, use your talent to get rid of him. Get him out of your head. _ He thought. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and then began to type.

_Sharp black eyes with auburn hair, a man who curved his rough lips into a smile after his work was done. The Doll-Maker. That was his signature, he did however seemed initially to be one to display his work for the world to see, but his murders are only found about a week after every killing. A man who was desperate to show off his work, would not leave it there for a week until its display is observed. That would drive one like that mad. The Doll-Maker was a private man, he did not mind showing off his work but preferred to create it for his own pleasure, not caring whether it was beautiful or gruesome to another's eye. It was perfect in his, that was all he desired. _

The more McGee typed the more of the Doll-Maker's personality that bounced off his murders he began to realize. But he just typed. He typed and typed and typed. He couldn't stop.

-x-

Two figures with red hair made out of wool sat perfectly still on two chairs across from each other. Old fashioned tea cups and treys were displayed in a beautiful manner upon the small table that separated them. An old man with a navy cut and grey hair starred at the figures. Their large Black eyes made from buttons glistened as the camera flashes reflected upon them. The man took off his NCIS hat and rubbed his head while shaking it.

"Two more victims from The Doll-Maker, when I got the call I was hoping for something less…" Gibbs began to say.

"Disturbing," Tony finished. Both men starred at the figures.

"Who are they?" Gibbs asked trying to avert his eyes from the scene.

"Marie Lawton and Kyle Lawton. Been married for ten years, no children. Kyle works for NCIS actually, he is one of the security guards at the gate. The maid called NCIS right away when she saw this, guess she knew he works for us," Tony answered.

"Fuck…" Gibbs muttered as he took a deeper breath.

McGee was crouching down before the two victims taking delicate pictures.

"Nice work eh? Took me a while to get 'em right but they turned out beautiful in the end." The Doll-Maker's voice emerged from behind McGee. McGee didn't flinch, for her knew it was just another hallucination. The Doll-Maker crouched beside McGee as McGee continued to take the pictures. To everyone else, The Doll-Maker was a ghost that could only be seen and heard by McGee. He chose to ignore it. He hoped that ignoring it and not chasing after it like a curious cat, like the last time, he might disappear.

"I didn't want them to rot. They would be ruined if they did. So I thought stuffing them would do the trick. I took their meat and fed it to their dogs." McGee turned to see Ziva petting the two dogs in the corner of the room. He felt his nerves twitch as an uncomfortable feeling spread throughout his body.

"I kept the bones, you see to keep them stable. The rest was just easy. Don't you think their beautiful? Best I've ever did," The Doll-Maker continued. McGee tried to calm down and continue to take the pictures of the victims. He tried to focus on what he was doing and not of The Doll-Maker's voice in his head. McGee almost felt as though he was going gag when he reached the face of the female victim. Her hair looked to be cut and the small lengths of it left were tied to many pieces of red wool. Their face was painted white and their mouths were sown closed and their eyes. Oh god, their eyes. McGee took the picture of it and then quickly looked away. He shook his head to get the image out of his mind.

"There's no need, no need to turn away." McGee felt the sound of his voice crawl closer to his ears as though he was right there next to him. "It's always scary the first time, but the next time it's okay. You see being scared is in all of us, even I was scared. I was scared of dolls but now I love them. I can't stop thinking about them. What do you fear? Cause one day that fear could turn into something you can't live without."

"McGee!" McGee's head snapped up once he heard his name coming from Gibbs' deep voice across the room. The cold feeling had left him.

"You got those photos?" Gibbs asked. McGee nodded. Should he tell Gibbs what he just heard? No, he told himself. Not now. Despite his urge to desperate confess his hallucinations to his boss, he just couldn't. He felt as though something was holding him back. Something.

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**So there you have it! :D I would love to hear some feedback on The Doll-Maker! He is a pretty messed up human-being but that is what makes him and the story i guess more interesting! at least that is what i am aiming for :P **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: thanks for the review! it was very appreciated :) Here's another chapter, its a tad bit shorter than the rest but its definitely a nail bitter! enjoy :)**

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Tony and Ziva searched through the crime scene photos, both speechless as each image flowed its way onto the TV screen in the bullpen. Gibbs instructed them to find clues within the rather very detailed pictures McGee took, which surprised both Tony and Ziva for they knew that McGee was easily disgusted by things like these. The Doll-Maker had left his mark in every detail imprinted upon the victims. These were the true Raggedy dolls compared to his first victims, or at least the first victims they have found. Ziva hesitated every time Tony clicked the remote changing each picture displayed. Her experience in killing was quick and simple, a shot to the head and done. This seemed far worse than that as well as the torture she experienced and witness back in Somalia. The Doll-Maker could have done this when they were alive; she hoped that they were dead while this horrific process occurred but there was no telling for sure until Ducky confirmed it.

"Any thoughts…McGee?" she asked shyly as she moved her eyes away from the screen to face him. McGee sat quietly at his desk observing the photos through his computer screen. He felt like these photos were a memory, as though he was present during the time of the kill. McGee could tell that both of them as well were quite disturbed by this, which did make him a tad bit better. It made him feel less crazy. He wondered if they too were seeing things, but he was too shy to ask. Who would ask such a thing? And McGee himself knew that he would never have the courage to confess his hallucinations! People would think he was crazy! He's not crazy. This is a normal reaction to this sort of situation. He told himself that every time The Doll-Maker came crawling through his head. It's normal, it will go away.

"He stuffed them," he blurted out remembering The Doll-Maker's description in his head. Ziva and Tony gave him confused looks. McGee realized quickly that that comment was a one way ticket to his confession, so he quickly covered up his tracks. "They are dolls aren't they? Raggedy Dolls to be exact. Raggedy Dolls aren't dolls that are made of glass or any other hard breakable material, they are stuffed. Ducky said that they have been dead for days, and they don't smell rotten so it would only make sense."

Tony and Ziva nodded their heads in agreement which made a quick save for McGee. He felt that he should at least tell them of what The Doll-Maker described but in a way that looked as though he had thought of it himself logically.

"If you're right, then he must have killed them before…dressing them up," Ziva commented with a small stutter near the end.

"They were stuffed!" Gibbs said as he entered the bullpen. "Ducky says that The Doll-Maker wanted them to look like legitimate Raggedy Dolls. Abby also found the same bio-oil used on the first victims on their skin to 'hide' the scarring of the stitches."

McGee's widened when he remembered The Doll-Maker holding a small bottle of oil during his hallucination in autopsy. What is going on? Why is he seeing things that turn out to be true? He shook his head and decided that he would write about it when he got home. Writing was his passion, and he hoped that it could cure whatever he's got.

-x-

Weeks went by like a blink of an eye and the newspapers flooded with news about The Doll-Maker and his new victims. Initially he started with pairs then sometimes went to individuals. The victims, however, were not linked at all! Except if they were in pairs, but each kill was placed upon random selection. Only a few were Navy workers but most were citizens. NCIS had no choice but to make a joined case with the FBI. The team began to put aside their shock upon the dreadfulness of the cases and focused more on The Doll-Maker himself. What kind of man is he? Ducky suggested a Psychopath, but was he really crazy? Or was he just an artist using the human body as his materials? That still sounded like a crazy person to the team, except McGee. He spent his hours after work writing and writing. His fingers expressed words upon his pages that he normally wouldn't use. His descriptions became clearer and clearer as he wrote about every kill. One would think that this was a biography of the killer that will soon be published to the public once he is caught and imprisoned. But that thought did not run through McGee's mind. His mind was twisted like a mix of wires scrambled in a fuse box. His fuse of a mind over heated every night as he poured out words and words to describe The Doll-Maker.

"You seemed to be fond of me. I like the way you show my passion upon paper. I like it…no I love it. Your words are art. Your own piece of art," The Doll-Maker's voice whispered through McGee's ears as he continued to write. McGee whispered back the words, "piece of art." It trailed on the tip of his tongue every time he said it. Art. His art. Writing.

-x-

The light was dim as it pushed its way out of the lamp spreading across the work table providing enough light for the worker's taste. McGee sat down in front of the desk and pulled out a hard pinkish material thick and floppy. He took out a hammer and began to hit it till it thinned out. He placed his finished piece under another lamp drying it out a little until he took it and sanded it. The material finally became as thin as a piece of paper after a few hours of the same routine. He smiled at himself proudly. He walked towards his type writer that stood lonely upon an empty table holding only the type writer and a stack of the same thin material. He took the one he finished and placed it into the type writer. He began to type. The material was so smooth and absorbent that the ink dried immediately after contact. McGee glanced over to see his freezer slightly open. He grunted as he got up and walked towards the kitchen to close it. He opened to secure anything that could be hanging out. He shut the door, as his secret laid inside of it missing its outer layer.

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**Was McGee Hallucinating? or was he not? :O please tell me what you think! i really love reviews! :) BTW I am not crazy creepy as what I am writing I swear! I just watch a lot of weird TV and Movies that give me ideas! plus like my bio says i like to write different so here is different :D **


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: hey guys I am sorry that I haven't posted in a very very long time. I have been experiencing a large amount of writer's block for this story and I have chosen to abandon it for now until I can find a way to finish this story. I'm sorry, but I appreciate all the support that has been given so far, you guys are truly the best! So maybe one day, maybe that day will be soon, I will finish this story! I may be posted other new stories but so far this one is abandoned for the time being...but like I said I may reopen it later.

I just wanted you all to know so you don't have to wait and wait and wait for a new chapter that may or may not come for quite some time. But I hope ya'll will enjoy any new stories of mine that may come! Sorry again!


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